


Intro to Rock Climbing

by rlnerdgirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek comes in to learn how to climb, Gen, M/M, Stiles and Scott work at a rock climbing gym, warning: no beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rlnerdgirl/pseuds/rlnerdgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek comes into the gym to learn how to rock climb, or, maybe, stalk his summer intern, Scott, to persuade him into full time employment. Scott pawns him off on Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intro to Rock Climbing

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt from [cupc8keblonde](http://cupc8keblonde.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. Original post over [here](http://rlnerdgirl.tumblr.com/post/61736492842/stiles-is-busy-with-the-ungraceful-job-of-loading%22).
> 
> And for those of you who aren't climbers, these links might come in handy if you are wondering what the hell I'm talking about:  
> [Climbing Holds](http://logang.hubpages.com/hub/Indoor-Rock-Climbing-Holds)  
> [Climbing Harness](http://www.spadout.com/images/nwiki/102_o.jpg)  
> [Not the wall they're on, but the location where I see them](http://www.planetgranite.com/dependentfiles/images/facilities/sv_poster_300x450.jpg)

Stiles is busy with the ungraceful job of loading and unloading the climbing holds in the dishwasher in the back when Scott comes back with wide eyes and a furrowed brow that has him somewhere confusingly between petrified and irritated.

"He's here. I don't even know how, but he's here."

The dishwasher's only half loaded and Scott has mini breakdowns often enough that Stiles knows this one doesn't demand he actually stop working. "Who's here?"

"Derek!"

"Derek?"

"Derek Hale. The Derek Hale. My summer intern boss who keeps trying to convince me to come work for him."

"Oooh, Hale Industries guy." Stiles remembers hearing enough about creepy boss stalker Derek Hale that he eventually started tuning it out. Though, while, okay, if what Scott said was true then the guy was being a little dramatic and ridiculous with the lengths he was going to convince Scott to become his employee. "Wait. The guy who wants you to be his Skywalker, or whatever?"

"Yes!" Scott sighs out, channeling his inner drama queen. "Yes. Creepy pushy Yoda boss guy. The computer says he's signed up to take climbing lessons. It even says he put in a request for me." 

Stiles finally does look up at that and can't help but feel for his besty, who is looking all sorts of anxious. Finally, he abandons the dishwasher. "Alright. Alright. Take over washer duty and I'll go teach stalker-Yoda how to not plunge to his death."

"Oh my God, thank you," Scott exclaims softly, surging forward to wrap Stiles in an all too tight hug that makes it feel a lot more like he just said he'd sell his soul to Satan in exchange for Scott and Allison being able to have the perfect wedding and babies, rather than give some weird past boss a rock climbing lesson.

Walking out from the back Stiles trips over his own feet, gives himself a flat tire, and nearly smashes face-first into the closest cashier's station when he see muscular, dark, and scruffy standing at the counter looking serious and just sullen enough to be stupid hot. There is no way in a billion, trillion, quadrillion years that this Greek God of muscles, scruff, and sourness is the pesky, stalkerish, desperate-to-be-Yoda-to-Scott's-Skywalker summer internship boss. No, because that would mean Scott has been deliberately holding out on Stiles, and Scott doesn't cockblock like that.

Okay, well, Scott cockblocks all the time, he just doesn't realize he's doing it.

Gaining control of himself, for the most part, Stiles tries his best to casually saunter the last few feet to the counter and is grateful that a smile is his default expression. "Hey there. What can I do for you?"

"Derek Hale. I'm here for a climbing lesson with Scott McCall."

Stiles gives an exaggerated wince, shrugs his shoulders, shakes his head, and says, "Gee, Scott's not in today, but I can show you the ropes." He winks, realizes it's too much, and realizes it's too late as well.

A slow moment passes when Derek not so casually glances over Stiles' shoulder to the now closed door leading to the back and then back at Stiles with an ever so subtlety raised eyebrow. Stiles shrugs again and tries for a 'Gee, I'm so sorry face,' which probably, because it is him and his life, just emphasizes exactly how much he is lying. Then Derek's eyes do something wholly unexpected and flicker down to Stiles' arms, shoulders to elbow to hands to fingers, where they linger for longer than they did on the shut door, before returning back to Stiles' face. Albeit, now it's somewhat flushed. "Alright."

Stiles almost bludgeons himself again after he files all Derek's paperwork away and turns around to grab Derek's harness and shoes. He's not quite exuding a 'trust me with your life' presence, which is driven home when, behind him, Derek says, "You'd probably lose your job if you let me fall, right?" 

Instead of making Stiles feel awkward or self-aware it just annoys him because, God damn it, he's a freaking phenomenal climber, and he sneers at the shoes he's grabbing and silently mimics, "You'd probably lose your job if you let me fall, right?" The attitude reels back to a simmer once he pops up and is actually looking at Derek again, who's smiling in a way that makes Stiles think his little pissy-fit was not so private.

"Alright, follow me," he announces after Derek's tried on his shoes and they fit, which means he complains about them being too tight and hurting his feet and Stiles nods sagely and refuses to give him a size bigger.

Of course Derek is about a billion times more distracting when he's in a harness and things other than his arms are bulging. Luckily he catches Derek's eyes snapping back to the far wall when he turns around from untangling the practice ropes and he doesn't feel nearly as awkward about it. 

Between Stiles' excellent teaching and Derek being one of the sharper tacks in the box, they're standing in front of a twenty-foot rock in ten minutes.

"So I… what?" Derek asks, staring up the rock like he's going to demolish it with his bare hands because he doesn't trust the thing to not steal his wallet and his cab in one swipe--if that was something rocks could do.

Swallowing down his humor, Stiles says, "Go through the checks," and finds it no less weird now than it was seven minutes ago as he present his lower half for Derek to purposefully ogle and touch as he runs his fingers over Stiles' double backs and then tugs on the belay carabiner clipped through the belay loop. The pull is a little violent and Stiles is jerked forward a step, suddenly finding himself in very close proximity to Derek, whose eyes are wide with surprise. With a breath, Stiles steps back quickly and glances over Derek's harness. "And you're all good."

"You're not going to check my eight-knot?" is such a basic question and, duh, Stiles just taught the man to make sure his belay partner properly checks his gear, but it still sounds like an invitation in a not so basic safety way.

A glance at Derek's dark eyes and Stiles tightens his lips. Derek's doing that shadow-smile thing that Stiles is starting to really like and really dislike, and he's only known the man for less than half an hour. "I saw you do it. Stop being a baby and climb the rock."

"Pretty sure that's not how you're supposed to talk to customers," Derek muses, smile growing a little more bold and a little more sly.

"Pretty sure I'm an angel and my boss will never believe you if you badmouth me," he replies. 

Watching Derek climb is the Christmas, birthday, and Thanksgiving present (if there were such a thing) Stiles has never known he's always wanted. Clearly Scott is an idiot for not wanting to work for this man. Then again, Scott doesn't judge his future employment based off the ass and arms of his future boss, but does based it off things like workability, good management skills, ability to communicate, and general lame work-related things.

When Derek's feet touch the ground he's grinning, which is making Stiles grin, because if there's one thing Stiles really loves about doing these basic intro to rock climbing lessons it's seeing that look on the person's face when he's totally just convinced them that this is what they want to do for the rest of their life, forget the job, forget paying rent, forget friends--the only friends they need anymore are belay partners.

"So, I belay you now?" Derek asks, and Stiles shrugs. Normally these classes consist of at least two people so that the instructor can stay on the ground and actually manage things in case something goes horribly awry, but if he pulls one of tightrope mats into the alcove and climbs on top of that he'll be fine on the off chance something happens when Derek belays him.

"Sure."

Stiles finds an unmarked climb in the alcove. It's short and the face is almost perfectly vertical, but that doesn't mean everything in the realm of climbing. Derek clips in and watches with an almost palpable intentness as Stiles loops the rope through the belay loops an and retraces the steps of the eight-knot, still follow his hands to the fisherman's, and then finally break away to meet Stiles' eyes. "Okay. So, you remember how to haul?"

"We just did it a few minutes ago."

"Yeah, well, it's my butt, so…" Stiles pulls on his end of the rope until what's attached to Derek's belay loop and the GRIGRI is taunt, "take the rope in," he finishes, giving some slack and watching as Derek dutifully reaches up, pulls the rope in with his left hand, pulls through the GRIGRI with his right, grabs the rope behind his right hand with his left, and slides his right back up to the GRIGRI in almost one fluid motion. He nods. 

"And to belay down?" Stiles pulls the rope and watches as Derek flips the GRIGRI open and feeds rope through. When Stiles stops Derek looks up at him and he nods. "Alright then, I guess I'm ready to trust you with my life Derek Hale. Pick up the slack please."

As Derek takes in the slack rope Stiles rotates his wrists a few times and does a few basic arm stretches. Scott just set this climb last night and Stiles hasn't actually gone up it yet, but he can already see the crux at the single ledge a mere few feet from the top. If he doesn't get this on the first try he's going to look like an idiot in front of Derek and Scott's going to make fun of him, whether he helped out with the Derek situation or not.

Approaching the rock, Stiles asks, "On belay?"

"Belay on," is the calculated response behind him.

Chalking up from the bag hanging behind him, Stiles puts his first hand on the rock and then the next. The holds are tiny, awkwardly far apart, and he thinks he should have let common sense be the judge of his choice instead of his random need to impress Derek with his climbing prowness. "Climbing."

"Climb on."

The climb is difficult. Stiles forgets about the pressure of Derek's eyes the moment his feet leave the ground, his focus zeroing in on the rock. The holds are all crimps and chips small enough and perfectly placed that he can feel a fine sheen of sweat glistening over his arms by the time he gets to the ledge and the crux, where he has to actually take a long moment to pause and think. 

"You okay?"

Stiles blinks in surprise at the rock before glancing the not-so-far way down at Derek, who's staring up at him, brow quirked in inquiry. He gives a quick nod before turning his attention to the rock. "Yup," he mutters, knowing he has to get moving quickly because he can feel his arms starting to get pumped as he putts around and waits for inspiration.

Idea flashing through his head, Stiles does a quick foot-change that nearly slides him off the rock, gets his right foot up until it's almost in his armpit, and takes a breath before he has to trust the rock, the hold, his shoes, and, overall, himself, and he lets go with his right arm, pushes up with his right foot, keeps tenuous balance with his too-low left hold, and launches himself up to a too-small jug at the edge of the ledge before swinging his hips into the rock and getting his left foot placed. It's another two feet, which are the easiest of the climb, until he slaps his hand against the taped box at the top and calls down, "Lower!"

"Lowering."

The trip down is fast and without trouble. Derek is a natural and the smile he has on his face makes Stiles smile wider. 

"That looked hard."

Stiles snorts. "That was hard. Scott put it up last night. It's probably a 14-something."

Glancing at the blank strip of tape that marks the set date and, supposedly, the climb difficulty, Derek's brow furrows. "Why didn't he mark it?"

"Sometimes it's fun to put up really difficult ones and leave them empty. Climbers like going for the challenge and it's always a bit of a thrill to see the set once it gets put up," he explains as he rubs the ache out of his fingers before attempting to tackle his eight-knot. "You want to climb again?"

Derek's grin is answer enough, but fades fast. "I didn't bring anyone with me, and you probably have to get back to work."

"Pft. The lesson's supposed to be, like, an hour or something. Besides, I work in a climbing gym and I'm manager today," Stiles says with a wave. Actually Scott is acting manager today but since Scott's not supposed to be here according to the man in front of Stiles, he'll take full advantage of the situation and do what he wants to. "So let's have a bit of fun for awhile, hm?"

With a nod, Derek says, "Sounds good to me," and startles Stiles by reaching for the eight-knot hanging from his harness.

Awkwardly enough Stiles feels himself flushing again. "You don't have to. My hands are fine."

The resulting eye contact is nothing short of smoldering. "Your hands are more than fine, Stiles," is Derek's response. That and, "Want to get some lunch after we're done?"

.end.

**Author's Note:**

> You can see me on [Tumblr](http://rlnerdgirl.tumblr.com) too! (don't hold your breath though)


End file.
